


Eighteenth Christmas

by tatooedlaura



Series: Christmas [19]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 05:06:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10655520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: And then December 21st ended with a whimper instead of a bang, moving past silently in the dark, December 22nd in its wake …





	Eighteenth Christmas

She’d been forced to let the darkness in, to let it flow around her, settle in her bones and the crevices of her mind, open back up to Mulder theories, ideas, borderline insanity. For the past year, she’d been playing sounding board and Devil’s advocate to him, having deep discussions of survival, surveillance, any and all means of wild theories.

She felt like she was back in the basement with him, only a maddened version of him.

Sometimes, in the dead of night, when they’d be arguing something, he would stop and smile at her, poke her in the ribs until she smiled genuinely back, “kinda forgot it wasn’t 1995 again.”

Understanding completely, “felt more like 1994 to me but to each his own.”

Early in their deal, she’d made it clear that, while she didn’t believe in what he was spouting off, she had promised him something and would hold up her end of the bargain. She made him talk about Samantha and his abduction and in turn, she talked about hers and about William, about their time apart and all their time together. They had managed to work through some very heavy-hanging issues, harbored guilt and resentment buried deep enough to be invisible until 3am as they poured over gun catalogs to see which would be best for their apocalyptic needs.

More than once, she grew tired enough that she began to buy into his spiel and had to excuse herself to pass out on the couch. More than once, she had Mulder convinced he was wrong and he would shake his head, take a walk around the house, doing his checks while he debated the monster in his head.

She spent the year trying to convince him there was something wrong and in all great seriousness, she enjoyed the year more than she cared to admit. They were playing roles once again that were familiar, comfortable. She spent the year getting to know him again, his neuroses much less under control but his mind still sharp, intricate and more beautiful than she remembered the first time around.

Give and take, she didn’t mind coming home anymore, things getting done in her absence. The cable might still be turned off because he couldn’t be sure what kind of signals were sent through it and he may have added a few more deadbolts to the front door, put bars on the windows, but he also kissed her, shared with her, opened up to her again.

But then summer became fall and fall moved to winter and December 1st hit her like a freight train, waking up to a snowy, sunny, frigid day that made her want to cry. 21 days until the world in Mulder’s head ended. 21 days until all their prep work, all their planning became obsolete.

21 days until her plan hit a fucking brick wall.

&&&&&&&&&

December 10th, he asked if Maggie had been packing like he asked her to. He inquired if her brothers were on track with their preparations. He questioned if she’d gotten the anti-biotics, Sulphas, Tylenol and Ibuprophen they needed to survive the next few years or decades. He requested they decorate for Christmas now so they could enjoy it before having to pack away everything so the impending invasion didn’t destroy their holiday memories.

With a deep breath and a smile that should have told him she was cracked inside, they put up the tree, hung the ornaments, decked the halls, unwrapped the candy and presented each other with their gifts.

Mulder opened his box carefully, not smiling but latching his gaze onto the small, perfectly shaped, foil wrapped including waving tag Hershey’s Kiss heavy solid metal ornament. His smile only appeared after Scully leaned forward, kissing him softly on the cheek, “so whatever happens, you’ll always have a kiss from me.”

Eyes glazing for a moment, he captured her lips, “I’ll keep it with me forever.”

Seeing a glimpse of her Mulder once again, she returned his kiss before reaching for her own wrapped box, “do I get to open mine?” After he nodded, she unwrapped clear glass spirals, six in all, each a different color of the rainbow, spinning delicately on invisible thread. Taking in a breath, “they’re beautiful, Mulder.”

Still clutching his kiss in one hand, he picked up the red spiral in his other, “wanted to have as much color in the world as we could.”

Moving to hang them before coming back to settle on his lap, “I love them. Thank you.”

“I love your kiss, too.” Dropping it in his shirt pocket, “I’m going to store this one with me for awhile.”

&&&&&&&&&&

By the 15th, Mulder was in full planning mode, going over checklists and inspecting his self-installed barbed wire fencing around the perimeter of the property; checking the manual water pump on the well, tightening screws on the bars of the windows, shifting canned goods to make room for more that would be arriving the next day.

Scully, for her part, feigned going to work for a few hours so she could sit in her car and sob uncontrollably just down the road.

Maggie, her love for her Fox immeasurable, finally relented to pack things up, come to the house and ride out the day of doom with her daughter and wished for son-in-law. It had taken a very long time for Scully to convince her that, even though she didn’t believe in this possible future, that Mulder did and they needed to deceive him in order to help him, to fix him once they got him past December 21st.

There were many, many discussions and arguments, heated ones, about this in private between mother and daughter but in the end, Maggie showed up with two suitcases, several laundry baskets filled with food, her most precious memories and photo albums and her late husband’s shot gun, rifle and three pistols, her vehicle bearing her weight in ammunition for them all.

Both Mulder and Scully eyed her collection and Maggie shook her head, “Dana’s father didn’t exactly have a trust in humanity either.”

&&&&&&&&&&

On the 19th, Mulder was pacing, caught in a loop of checking on things, double checking on things, mentioning the same things over and over until Maggie had to excuse herself, seeing him like this breaking her heart. Disappearing to the guest room for the night, she heard Scully talking quietly to him, trying to get him to sit still for five minutes, get more than the two hours of sleep a night he’d been burning through for the last two months.

Finally, Scully simply took his hand, turned out the lights and led him upstairs, closing their bedroom door behind her, twisting the simply lock before leading him to the edge of the bed. Sitting him on the comforter, she scooted between his knees, resting elbows on shoulders, clasping hands behind head, “I need you to stop for tonight, okay? You need a good night’s sleep. You need to shut your eyes and drift away for me. Can you do that?”

“But, Scully …”

Shutting him up with her lips briefly on his before meeting his forehead in their commonplace gesture of devoted adoration, “one night, Mulder. One last night in our bed, safe from the world. Forget everything but us, in the dark.” Running a finger over his temple, “remember how good we are in the dark, Mulder? How much you love me in the dark?”

Nodding against her, he then pulled away, “you will never have any idea just how much I love you.”

Finally, after all this time, a small amount of panic at the coming possible future entered her soul, wiggled into her brain, squeezed her heart and lungs and gasping from the force of it, she mashed her mouth against his, teeth knocking together, lips pinched between. There wasn’t time for slow reveals and caressing words; instead, they came together swiftly and in silence, the knowledge of Maggie across the hall keeping them quiet, keeping their sighs of fear and release muted.

They didn’t sleep much that night anyway, alternating instead between holding, joining, drifting and a rare, instant unconscious moment or two before waking to make sure the other was still there, still alive, still touching and breathing.

&&&&&&&&

Mulder moved them to the basement the next morning, declaring that December 21 would begin on the other side of the world in a few short hours and he wanted to be ready when it did. Maggie pursed her lips and followed the pair down, reluctant to pull the door shut behind her, beginning to feel that claustrophobic fear her daughter had experienced the night before. The click of the catch and the finality of shutting vibrated through her hand and she fought the panic clawing up her throat.

Fox was wrong, wasn’t he?

Two deep breaths later, she was in her futon chair in the corner, Dana’n’Fox on the pullout couch, settled in for a day of waiting.

They passed the time quietly, Mulder pacing, unpacking, rearranging while Maggie and Scully played cards, napped, strained to listen to the outside world above them but heard nothing until finally, Maggie begged off, her head pounding from the stress of the room, the stress of remaining silent in her opinions and the stress of the tiny nugget of worry that grew exponentially as time dragged on, feigning sleep on her chair.

December 21st arrived in Australia, then slowly worked its way around the world, Mulder glued to his short-wave radio, waiting for chaos, nightmares, the invasion that he knew was coming.

China, Russia, Poland, Egypt, Spain, England, Greenland … nothing.

She watched him break into a sweat, standing at the top of the stairs, listening through the locked door for sounds of the world ending.

It came and went, passing quietly by on its way Colorado, California, Hawaii, Alaska …

&&&&&&&&

The long day dragged as the three of them held their spots, eating prepared food leftover from the refrigerator upstairs, cold sandwiches and colder milk. Napping, reading, talking …

And then December 21st ended with a whimper instead of a bang, moving past silently in the dark, December 22nd in its wake …


End file.
